


Entropy and Tea

by macabre_monkey



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Canon Lesbian Character, F/F, First Meetings, Interspecies Romance, Pre-Relationship, Victorian era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 22:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2205663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabre_monkey/pseuds/macabre_monkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vastra suffers a simple yet catastrophic mechanical malfunction, but fortunately, Jenny is around to save the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entropy and Tea

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I _wholeheartedly reject_ Vastra and Jenny's "canon" meeting. In fact, I reject all of Vastra and Jenny's "canon" from _The Brilliant Book 2012_. Ugh.

I noticed something odd about her straight off. The first thing I thought was _drunk_ , but only a second later I realized that wasn’t right. She didn’t have a drunk’s stagger, it was more like she was so tired to she almost couldn’t keep herself standing, and she was sort of hunched over like she was in pain. Now, I ain’t exactly right with the Lord, but it’s always struck me that them as claim to be come up with all sorts of reasons not to follow the Lord’s more inconvenient commandments, and that the line that separated me from my comfortable position in a well-off household and that of a doxy in the East End weren’t no bigger than a hairsbreadth. So I figured as maybe I’d got lucky, I ought to sort of pass it on. 

Still, if Sir Clarey had been at home, and the butler not gone on his half day off and the cook out tending to her sick sister, I wouldn’t have been able to do more than just give her whatever I thought wouldn’t be missed from the pantry. It was a stroke of luck, all right, ‘cause I sure would’ve gotten sacked if anybody found out I was letting in vagrants. So I tucked down into the alley she was in, but I wasn’t but four or five steps away from her and she just collapsed, facedown, right into the grimy snow. I ran the rest of the way, and when I rolled her over, I saw—

I couldn’t even scream. I just breathed in real fast and fell back on my rump. Because she was _green_. Not green like someone gets right before they’re sick. _Green_ , like leaves, like grass. Her skin looked sort of bumpy, too. No, not bumpy, exactly…scaly. Almost like snake skin.

For the longest, I just sat there staring at her. I don’t even know what I was thinking; not anything, I suppose. I was just looking at her, because I hadn’t ever seen anything like her in my life. Never even _heard_ of nothing like her. And then finally I thought, she don’t need my help no less ‘cause she looks funny, and then I thought, maybe someone beat her because of it, and that made me mad. 

“Oi. Can you hear me? What’s your name, then?” She moaned a bit, so I patted her cheek, hoping to get her up and moving before we attracted any attention.

“Wake up, you can’t stay out here in the cold. Can you walk?” It took a minute, but I managed to get her back on her feet. She seemed more than half asleep, but I got her moving again. It took some doing, but I got her back to the house.

I knew she had to be chilled right through, so I sat her in a chair right in front of the stove, got the fire good and hot and put on the kettle. Then, well, I wasn’t rightly sure what else to do. I thought she must be hurt or sick, but if there was one thing I _did_ know for certain it was that I shouldn’t get a doctor. I remembered going to the national museum and seeing all sorts of strange creatures on display, and I had a feeling, that maybe instead of helping her they might like to add her to the collection. So a doctor was out, even if I’d had money for one. Sighing, I went to the cupboard to get the tea and teacups. There were a few biscuits left from Sir Clarey’s tea, and there was a bit of ham left from yesterday’s breakfast. I gathered it all up, and noticed the green lady seemed to be perking up.

“Awake, are you? Here, then.” I set the biscuits and ham on the kitchen table and poured the tea, and made sure to add plenty of sugar, because for my money, there’s nothing like it to help take the chill off. 

She didn’t seem to be good for much yet. She couldn’t quite keep hold of the cup, so I had to hold it for her. I noticed, now that her hood had fallen completely off, that she didn’t have no hair at all, and she had horn-looking things growing out of her head. For the first time I wondered, really, what she _was_. Before I saw her with her hood down I might have figured she was just a woman with some sort of skin affliction, but those horns told a different story. 

“There now, easy.” 

She really _looked_ at me then, and I could see sense returning. 

“Where am I?” She asked, and her voice wasn’t what I was expecting at all. A little deep for a woman, and cultured, but with a hint of an accent I couldn’t quite place.

“You’re in Sir Clarey’s house. I’m Jenny, the maid. I saw you collapse in the alley when I was coming back from a walk, so I brought you in. Are you hurt? You’re chilled right through, that’s for certain.”

She just looked at me sort of funny, and I knew she couldn’t be used to people helping her, or even being kind to her. She started to say something, then stopped. Then started again. “You don’t happen to have a vision defect, do you?”

Which I guess was a roundabout way of asking why I hadn’t run screaming from her. “No, ma’am.” 

That threw her again, I could see. “And you aren’t afraid?”

I couldn’t help it; I smiled. “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but you don’t look too fearsome right at the moment.”

It was a bit harder to read her facial expressions than it was on an ordinary person, but if she’d had eyebrows, I think she would have raised them. “You aren’t seeing me at my best, I’m afraid. But, thank you. You’ve saved my life.”

Then the lady took something off from around her throat. It looked like it was made of metal, silvery, but not like any sort of jewelry I’d ever seen before.

“That’s a funny sort of necklace,” I said, along of how it was maybe rude to ask questions, but I was dying to know _something_ about her.

“It isn’t ornamental,” she said as she started to inspect it. “This is an external thermal regulator.” She looked at me then, and I suppose she must have seen that I didn’t have the least notion what that meant. “It keeps me warm.”

“What, that little bit of metal?” 

“This little bit of metal is actually a machine,” she said. “And it has chosen a most inopportune time to succumb to entropy. If I may intrude further upon your hospitality, could I borrow a needle?”

She was an odd one, all right. “Back in a mo’.”

I fetched one and handed it to her. She started picking at the machine and only a few seconds later, it—opened, is the only way I can describe it. Inside were a dozen or more tiny, colorful lights, and tiny little wires and things. It was lovely, and I said so.

She only scoffed. “This is nothing,” she said. “Now, if I still had my battle mask, or my earth programmer, _then_ I could show you some truly beautiful technology. No, this little device, while crucial for my survival in your climate, is quite simple in comparison.”

“Well then, what’s a battle mask, and an earth whats-it?” I was maybe pushing my luck, but despite the way she spoke she didn’t seem disinclined to having an actual conversation with the likes of me, so I couldn’t help asking. “And why do you need a machine like that to keep you warm? You could just wear a heavier coat.”

“To answer the second part of your question first, it may or may not have escaped your notice that I bear an outward appearance quite similar to your modern reptiles. That is because I _am_ a reptile, although not a modern one. I’m cold blooded, that is to say, my body is incapable of regulating its temperature the way you mammals can. A coat works to keep you warm by trapping your body heat; as I do not generate body heat, I must rely on this device to regulate my body temperature. If I become too cold, I become torpid, which was the state you found me in, and either die from exposure or from an enemy or predator capitalizing on my inability to defend myself.”

Blimey. “So you’re saying, you’re a, a, a _lizard_?” I couldn’t help it, the questions just poured out of me. My mother always said curiosity was one of my worst traits and would land me in a pile of trouble one day, but it’s not every day a body meets a talking lizard, is it? “Where do you come from, then? You can’t be from London, or anywhere in England for that matter. Are there others like you? Do you have a family?”

She looked up at me then, and she smiled very faintly. “I come from very far away, and I am the last of my kind.”

“Oh,” I put my hands over my mouth, and rightly so. Well, and of course she was only one, people would have damn well noticed giant man-shaped talking lizards running around, wouldn’t they? “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ve been horribly rude.”

Her smile deepened then. “I hardly mind your questions. I find this change of pace quite refreshing. And I _do_ miss my sisters and our great civilization—but, it was quite a while ago.”

I felt a hundred other question piling up inside of me, but I firmly stomped them all down. “Still, ma’am, it was hardly proper of me. I do apologize.”

“Proper,” she scoffed again. “Humans, you’re still so backwards about so many things. What could possibly be proper about curbing an inquisitive nature? Tell me, Jenny,” she said, going back to repairing her machine. “Do you enjoy your work in this house?”

Well, that threw me right off. Firstly as it seemed to come out of nowhere, secondly, since when did anyone high class ever care what a servant thought?

“Well,” I said, taking my time coming up with what I hoped was an appropriate answer. “My mother always said that there’s a certain satisfaction that comes from knowing your place, and performing your duties to the best of your ability.”

She glanced up at me, shrewdly. “And do you share your mother’s opinion?”

Taking a deep breath, I blurted out, “I think it’s bloody boring, ma’am.”

She laughed, and it sounded wonderful. “Jenny, my dear, inquisitive Jenny, you are wasted on this. I have a proposition for you: leave Sir Clarey’s employ and come and work with me.”

Well, if that didn’t go and throw me right in the opposite direction. But the way she’d worded things gave me a cagey feeling. “You said work _with_ you,” I said slowly. “Not _for_ you. So who do you work for, then?”

If anything her smile got even deeper. “I am self employed. Forgive me for not introducing myself immediately, I was still quite a bit muddled. My name is Vastra.”

“No! _The_ Madame Vastra, the detective?”

“One and the same. Ah, there we go, good as new,” she said, and the thermal regulator closed back up. 

“And you want me to work with you? Help you solve crimes, and all that?”

“Absolutely, if you find the prospect amenable. You are a keen observer, difficult to ruffle, and dare I say, not overly afraid of risk but capable of caution when need be; as such, you would make a perfect assistant. I have been quite desperate for a human assistant for some time, as there are many places I have needed to go in the course of my investigations that are bared to me, not to mention I still find some human customs baffling. Unfortunately, most people find my appearance too disturbing to even give me time to make my proposal, let alone consider it. So what do you say?”

“What’s the catch?” I said, letting my natural wariness dampen down some of the excitement. No sense in going into something blind; working for Sir Clarey might have been boring, but it was also safe.

“Catch? You mean do I have any ulterior motives? No. Only, perhaps, loneliness. This is the first time in a long time I’ve had a genuine conversation with someone. Although, I must make certain you are aware, I only hunt the most dangerous and clever criminals. If you agree to work with me, you would certainly face a great deal of personal danger. Also, you would need to undergo very rigorous training to develop both your intellect and physical strength.”

The prudent thing to do, I knew, was to turn her down. Who in her right mind would give up a position like this to go risk her life capturing murderers? But looking at Madam Vastra, at the dangerous, daring sparkle in her eyes, the quirk of her lips, the lamplight reflecting off her scales, I knew I was most definitely not in my right mind.


End file.
